His Guardian and His Sister
by happylittlelady
Summary: Harry's moving into Number 4 of Privet Drive. Something had changed his life completely, even though he doesn't know it. Yet.
1. Chapter 1

It was midnight in Privet Drive, and Albus Dumbledore had just left baby Harry on the doorstep of the Dursley household, along with McGonagall and Hagrid, who was still bawling his eyes out.

'Well,' said Dumbledore finally, 'that's that.' We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations.'

'Yeah,' said Hagrid in a very muffled voice. 'I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall-Professor Dumbledore, sir.'

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

'I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall,' said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

'Good luck, Harry,' he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone.

However, he didn't notice the pair of glinting green eyes hidden behind one of the lampposts. They belonged to a girl, not much older than 5, who had evidently been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.

The mysterious girl emerged after Dumbledore disappeared, and slowly walked over to the Dursleys' door. She stared intently at the baby, crouched down and whispered softly, 'To Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived.' She kissed him on the cheek, got up, and walked away, occasionally looking back as though she was reluctant to leave him alone.

Baby Harry suddenly awoke, startled by the cold wind blowing over him, which left him feeling more lonely than ever. The last thing he remembered was a green flash of light in front of his cot, back at home. Now, he was left at an unfamiliar place without his parents, and he started sniffling, both from the cold and his own loneliness. But then he caught a glimpse of the girl staring at him. Harry tried to reach out towards her, but she smiled sadly at him, and left without a single word.

He instantly felt warmer than he was a few seconds before. At least in this unfamiliar location, a person was being kind to him, a person he didn't even recognise. Maybe she was a friend or relative of his parents? Before he could think more about the unknown girl, a surge of fatigue went through Harry's body and he fell asleep once more.


	2. Chapter 2

It was Harry's 6th birthday that day, but the Dursleys' had forgotten it as usual. Despite this, Harry was still happy for the whole day. Even when Aunt Petunia made him go outside because he "seemed too happy" and she suspected he was up to something, Harry didn't mind. He was glad to leave the house because Dudley was having another tantrum and he decided that it was best to avoid him.

He sat on the lawn for 5 minutes or so, but then he got bored and started to wander around the neighbourhood. After checking behind him to make sure his uncle wasn't looking, he went out and walked down the street, singing "Happy Birthday" to himself under his breath. As he went on, Harry noticed Mrs Figg's cat, Tibbles, was trying to escape through the catflap, but apparently he was too fat to get through it.

He tried to ignore it, but then he suddenly heard a swishing noise from her backyard. He couldn't suppress his curiosity and waddled towards the sound.

He saw an older girl turning her back at him, holding a tree branch. Something was emitting from it. Harry tried to see what she was doing, and went up to her. He let out a gasp - he caught a glimpse of a golden stream of light wrapping itself around the branch. The girl must've heard him, because she whirled around, looking shocked and terrified. She lowered her gaze and saw Harry. At first, she didn't recognise him, but when he brushed his hair out of his face, she laid her eyes on the lightning-shaped scar that she had seen 4 years previously and the truth dawned upon her.

"Harry?" she dropped the branch and whispered. She looked relieved, almost happy to see him. "How do you know me?" he squeaked. "As far as I know, no one here actually knows that I exist." The girl laughed, her brown curls swaying behind her. "Ever since you were brought here, I've been watching over you." Harry seemed confused. "Why? I don't even know you!"

She smiled. She had been waiting for this moment for years now. "Here's the thing, Harry—You're a wizard." He looked shocked. "Wait, what? That's impossible!" Far-fetched as it might seem, though, he couldn't help believing the girl. "If that's true, how are you the only person who knows it? My aunt and uncle didn't." "Because I'm one too." she chuckled. "Well, to be more precise, a witch, but they're practically the same anyway." To Harry, it was all too good to be true. "But, can't wizards, like, do magic? I've never done anything of that sort." She stopped for a moment, and said, "I don't know. Perhaps nothing happens until you're of Hogwarts age, which I am." "What's that?" he asked, eager to hear more. "Oh, I keep forgetting you're only 6. I'd better tell you all about it."

The girl told Harry about the wizarding world. "As for Hogwarts, I don't really know anything yet, I'm only starting this September." "You get to learn magic?" he said enviously. "Don't worry, you'll get the letter one day too." She reassured him. "When?" he pressed on. She quickly did the math. "Um… 5 years from now?" Harry slumped. He wasn't expecting to wait for that long. "Speaking of time, I think you'd better run back home, it's almost 6pm." He gasped. "Uh oh, I have to go. Bye!" He shouted, and ran home as fast as his little legs could carry him. "Oh! And one more thing!" the girl yelled. "Happy birthday!" Harry almost stopped. He hadn't heard someone say that for years. It filled him up with warmth. But he realised that it was getting late and Aunt Petunia would get cranky if he didn't show up for supper, so he shot up the sidewalk without looking back.

"How dare you, getting late for supper? This is unacceptable! Where were you?" screamed Aunt Petunia. Harry didn't dare answer her truthfully, saying that he met a witch, so he lied, "I saw a pink dog riding a scooter down the road, so I wanted to follow him. I didn't realise it was 6 already." "Nonsense! You see, Vernon? Only 6 years old, and his brain is already filled with ridiculous ideas! This is exactly why we vo…" "Petunia!" Uncle Vernon warned. Harry looked at him, confused. What was his aunt and uncle trying to hide?

He began," What are you ..." but he was interrupted. "I'll have none of that in the house, thank you. Don't. Ask. Questions. Now run along and set the table. Poor Duddydums is getting hungry, right darling? " his aunt glanced at Dudley, who nodded, his mouth still full of cookies. Harry sighed, and went into the kitchen. If only he knew magic, he would turn the Dursleys into big fat toads and they would know not to make him do the chores!

Something suddenly occurred to him. The girl who was being so kind to him—he didn't even know her name! He'd never thought of asking her, as he was too surprised at the thought of being a wizard. Maybe this was merely a prank? But no, the glowing branch was proof that she was not normal. Now he started to doubt himself. Did he imagine the golden light? Somehow, even though he only just met the girl, he knew he could trust her, as if she was his….sister. She knew when his birthday was, after all! Harry liked the thought of having a magical sibling, who could tell him everything about magic and the wonderful world he actually belonged to. It was only when Aunt Petunia cried for him to hurry up that he stopped daydreaming and was brought back to reality.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Harry woke up earlier than usual. He had another weird dream, but it was a nice and pleasant one, unlike the nightmares he usually had which ended with a strange green flash. He dreamt that he was in a huge castle, where friendly ghosts lived and the paintings could talk. It was very welcoming and made him feel like he was at home. He pondered about the topic of home. Would he consider 4 Privet Drive home? He couldn't remember his parents, and he forgot everything that happened when he lived with them. He was only a year old when they died, after all. According to his aunt, they had died in a car crash. But somehow, he didn't quite believe her. If he was magic, shouldn't they have magic in their blood too? If so, why couldn't they have protected themselves?

This time, it was Uncle Vernon who barged into the cupboard. "Up, boy! You're eating breakfast outside today, your aunt's expecting some friends to come over and have lunch. You'll stay out of our sight until supper, and don't be late, or else…" his face became slightly purple, "It'll be the last thing you do. So bear that in mind!" He stormed out and shouted for him to follow. Harry hastily reached for his glasses and threw on a jacket, then went to the kitchen. He grabbed a sandwich and headed out.

Harry was annoyed at his uncle for shooing him out of the house in the morning, when he was still feeling groggy. Was this considered child abuse? He imagined himself kicking the Dursleys out to their lawn, and making them live in tents while he got the whole house to himself. He daydreamed about conjuring feasts out of nowhere for him to eat and forcing them to eat stale bread instead. Then he suddenly remembered: he could go and find the girl for a nice chat and hopefully, get to witness some more magic.

He finished his sandwich in a rush and went to find Mrs Figg's house. It took him 5 minutes until he reached it, and he looked over to the backyard. To his surprise, no one was there. Then he reminded himself that it was still 8 in the morning and she might still be having breakfast. He sat down on the spot and decided to wait for her to come out.

He waited for an hour or two, but he didn't see anyone come out. Maybe she'd stay inside for the whole day? Then he remembered his past visits to Mrs Figg's house whenever the Dursleys went out and left her in charge of babysitting him. He didn't recall anyone else there. Mrs Figg never mentioned anything about a niece. Who was the mysterious girl? If she didn't live in her house, what was she doing in the backyard?

3 hours had passed and the girl hadn't appeared. Harry got bored and finally decided to ask Mrs Figg about her whereabouts. It was the reasonable thing to do at that moment. Why not give it a shot?

Harry rang the doorbell, his heart racing. Mrs Figg opened the door, and was surprised to see a 6-year-old standing in the doorway. She asked grouchily, "What are you doing 'ere? Aren't you s'posed to be in the Dursley house?" He breathed in and said, very quickly, "I came to see the girl I saw in your backyard yesterday." She looked shocked. "Wha-what do y-you mean, wha-what girl?" He said innocently, "The one with brown hair! She showed me some magic!" Mrs Figg seemed alarmed. "Shush, boy, not here! Come in before you say anything else!" She seized his arm and dragged him inside. Once inside, she whispered in an urgent tone, "How on earth do you know about Medea?"

Medea? Harry decided for a moment. It must've been the girl's name. Medea…such a mysterious name! Harry thought. Then he registered that Mrs Figg was asking him a question and he hurriedly answered, "Um, I told you, I saw her in the backyard." She looked angry. "MEDEA!" she screamed. "You're in trouble, young lady!"

At the sound of her own name, Medea rushed downstairs, only to find Mrs Figg, livid with anger, and Harry standing in the living room. "Harry?" she called. "Hi! So you're Medea!" he replied. She shifted her gaze onto Mrs Figg. "You told him, didn't you?" "It's your problem! Didn't warn you not to use magic outside this house, did I now? " Harry squealed with delight, "So there IS magic! And Mrs Figg, you know about Hogwarts too?" he said innocently. She gasped with terror. "You aren't supposed to tell him about it until he gets his letter!" Medea looked guilty. "I couldn't resist. He saw me doing magic, after all. And he was very persistent. " she smiled at him. "Come on, Auntie Figg, he should know about everything. Imagine him going to Hogwarts without a inkling what he's involved in!" "At least wait until he's older!" Mrs Figg shot back. "Come on, Harry, let's go outside. And we will NOT be doing any magic, I assure you." Medea cast a playful glance at her and pulled Harry along to the backyard.

They had a lovely time talking about the wizarding world. "Why do you live with Mrs Figg?" Harry asked. Medea thought for a moment. "I'm an orphan, just like you. I never knew who my parents were. Apparently, someone found me abandoned and decided to hand me to Mrs Figg. Fortunately, she recognised that I was magic." This left Harry wondering about his family. "Medea? You said you've known me since I came here. Do you know where I came from? Did you know my parents? Were they magic too?"

The question took her aback. She wasn't ready to tell him that his parents were murdered by a Dark Lord feared by everybody, but yet he became famous because he somehow survived. She didn't know if she was qualified to tell him that. Dumbledore had reminded them not to reveal his true identity to himself. She had already told him that he was magic, and she didn't dare break another rule. "I don't know. I only recognised you by your scar," she gestured to Harry's forehead. "Only a wizard or witch would have a unusual mark like that," she lied. "That's why I decided to watch over you, because I know how hard it is to be abnormal in a Muggle neighbourhood."

"Oh. I would've thought…never mind then." Harry said, somewhat disappointed. Medea sighed with relief. She attempted to cheer him up. "Why don't I tell you more about our world?" He looked down his watch and saw that it nearly 6pm. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Uncle Vernon told me not to be late for supper." he said sadly. "Well, then run along! I'll see you tomorrow at 10am, if you're free!" Medea said in a hearty voice. "Okay…Bye then!" He said, and ran back to the house.


	4. Chapter 4

Nearly 2 months had passed since Harry first met Medea. Each day, he somehow found excuses to go visit her, and because the Dursleys didn't mind his absence in their household, he spent hours talking to her in Mrs Figg's backyard. Medea always had interesting stories about the wizarding world, and Harry loved hearing them. Some days, they would secretly hide behind the fence and he would longingly watch her perform simple magic tricks; and some days, they would just sit on the grass, not talking, but both felt contented anyway.

All too soon, it was almost September. Harry had seen Medea busily hustling around her room, packing her belongings into her suitcase and cramming heavy books inside as well. At first he was bewildered. Where was she going? Then he remembered that Medea was eleven, and would attend Hogwarts that year. Suddenly he had an urge to stop her, but he felt too selfish. He couldn't stop her from going to the school of her dreams just so he wouldn't feel bored during the day. He recalled the familiar twinkle in her eyes every time she talked of Hogwarts; it would surely be the best times of her life. Besides, he would be starting primary school anyway. Harry then felt a lot better, glad to have the pressure lifted off his shoulders.

On August 31st, Harry ran over to visit Medea one last time before she left. "Promise you'll write?" he had asked. She answered, "Twice every week, I promise. But I'll send them to Auntie Figg, then she'll show them to you. Your aunt wouldn't be pleased to see owls swooping in all the time, would she?" Harry giggled. "Hurry up, young lady! The Knight Bus'll be here anytime soon, you do want to catch it, dontcha?" Mrs Figg grumbled. Medea gave Harry a hug. "Please be safe. If you want to write, ask Auntie. She'll help you." She glanced at Mrs Figg. "Right?" Mrs Figg grunted 'yes'.

Just then, a lopsided purple three-decker bus zoomed in from nowhere, almost knocking Harry over. A scrawny young man shouted from the door, "Welcome to the Knight Bus, blah blah blah….Just get on now, won't you? " Medea heaved her own suitcase on board, followed by Mrs Figg. Harry only had just enough time to wave at her before the crazy bus fled.

Harry's year wasn't that bad. Uncle Vernon had enrolled him at a public school, right across the street, just so he 'wouldn't have to send that little brat off every morning' if he could do it himself. The teachers were all nice, especially the English teacher, who had found Harry's written stories highly amusing. He had tried to tell her that they were all real, but she had laughed and praised him for his creativity instead. Soon, Harry gave up and learned not to mention magic to anyone else, as it was clear that others simply did not believe in it.

Medea had kept her promise and sent letters back home every week. Harry found himself begging to read the letters every day he ran to her house. Even though he never understood the difficult words, she was nice enough to read them aloud to him, and Medea's stories were much more entertaining now that she was old enough to experience actual magic. She talked about moving staircases, paintings that could talk, delicious feasts every day and oh, such lessons! She could now levitate things at will, even turn matches into needles! These letters filled Harry with envy, and he wished for the day his acceptance letter would arrive to come quickly.

To his dismay, Medea never came back for the holidays. "There's so much to do here, I don't seem to have time for anything!" She had once written in her letters. "I do miss you, though. How I hope you could come with me!" Harry had to stay at the Dursleys' for Christmas dinner, but earlier that day he had received a slice of chocolate cake and a treacle tart from Medea. "Merry Christmas!" she had written. It was his first present ever. Feeling grateful, Harry insisted on writing a Christmas card to her. Even though his handwriting was messy as usual, it pleased him at the thought of her opening the card and finding a surprise which awaited her, as Harry had managed to stuff a drawing of her inside which he had made himself.


	5. Chapter 5

A year has passed since Medea went to Hogwarts. It was almost July and Harry was eager to meet her again. He wanted to hear all of her stories, even though she'd written some of them in her letters, but he wanted to know more.

The day Medea came back, Harry ran over to Mrs Figg's house right after school, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He almost tripped over the fence and barely missed the wall he was running into.

"Medea!" he cried happily. She turned around, surprised to hear a familiar voice. Her eyes widened with delight when she caught sight of Harry. "You're here!" she said. They hugged each other. Then, Medea broke away, looking embarrassed. "I've just unpacked, I'll go finish it now, I'll come to you later." "I want to help!" he said eagerly. Medea gave him a smile then nodded, and gestured him to follow as she went up the stairs.

Harry followed her into her room and gasped. Apart from the big heavy suitcase, which laid open on the floor, a real, live owl was sitting in a cage ruffling its feathers. It had smooth brown feathers and big, reproachful eyes. Medea laughed at his shocked expression and explained, "This is ?. He's been really useful, sending and receiving all my letters." She gave him a affectionate pat on the head. ? hooted happily. "It's thanks to him I've been getting your letters." She said, and pulled out a bunch of envelopes from her suitcase. "I loved your Christmas card! Even though the drawing doesn't really do justice," she pointed to the crooked nose on the portrait Harry had drawn for her, "thanks! It's funny how my friends really believe that I have a little brother!"

Harry uncovered much more other strange things in the suitcase as he helped Medea unpack. He found interesting textbooks, quills ("why don't wizards use pens?"), a box of parchment ("why don't wizards use paper?"), a bag of weird-looking coins ("why don't wizards use normal English currency?") and her Hogwarts uniform ("why don't wizards wear t-shirts instead?") .

Among her clothes, he found a blue and bronze tie. He remembered what Medea had said before: "There are four houses in Hogwarts, and each house has its own colours." Harry turned around and asked Medea, "What house are you in?" She said, "Me? Ravenclaw." "But you said you thought Gryffindor sounded the coolest." "Oh well, I don't get to choose." He was intrigued. "Then how do the teachers know where you belong to?" "You'll know in time. I don't want to ruin the surprise." "But I have to wait for five years!" "Just in case you're worrying, it doesn't hurt. You'll love where you end up in, whether it's your dream house or not."

After unpacking, they went out to the lawn as usual. Harry had wanted to beg Medea to show him the magic she had learnt, but she told him that after being educated at Hogwarts, it meant that she now had control over her powers and couldn't be excused from doing magic outside the wizarding world. Besides, she said, she had left her wand, a nice swishy one, in her room.

Harry was disappointed, but quickly cheered up when Medea handed him a box of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not actually _frogs,_ are they?" he asked uncertainly. He gingerly opened the box and a blur of brown legs jumped out. He screamed. One of the frogs had jumped right into Harry's open mouth. He instinctively chomped a leg off. The rest of the frog escaped out from the window as he chewed on its leg. It really was quite tasty.

Medea told him about her time at Hogwarts, and how they were the best of her life. "There's this really nice teacher who's really tiny, almost like a dwarf, and a kind gamekeeper who's like, the height of three grown men!" All this interesting information made Harry even more envious of her and wanted nothing more than to attend this school himself.


End file.
